


In Weird Increments of Kindness

by orphan_account



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 16:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14573097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Caleb's perspective on the care that Nott shows him.Fluffy. Fluffy as all hell.





	In Weird Increments of Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> Another Nott/Caleb from me today. I am desperate for any romantic content with these two, but with so few of us writing or shipping it, I will keep on with my shitty writing until more skilled people do and I can enjoy their work.
> 
> Also, this is just a chance for me to write about my love for everyone's favourite sweet weird goblin girl.
> 
> Obligatory: Nott is a grown woman in this.

He isn’t sure when his world began to revolve around the peculiarity that is Nott.

Being sure of timelines is something that Caleb is good at; it’s a talent with which few could match him. Though he remembers the little moments heading to their closeness, the juncture of their timeline when she became his focus isn't clear.

Caleb has spent a long time keeping far away from everyone else in self-imposed exile, and his time homeless left people turning away from him and refusing to meet his eye. During those periods, he learned that those who approached often did so for nefarious purposes. It was best to scuttle as far away as possible.

When they meet, he is alone. He is afraid. Nott is this odd creature that lurks in the shadows who wants to help this pitiful man who trembles in the corner. So he takes her up on it. And they escape.

Then the next day, he wakes up and she’s still there. Then the next day. And then the day after that.

He realises that she cares the first time he goes to pay for a book and finds gold in his pocket that he swears he didn't have before. They’re not anything like they’ll become yet; they're acquaintances together for survival, but she’s looking out for him. He’s never asked her to.

It’s odd because she can be downright selfish around some people. She’s happy to steal what’s theirs—not even for survival sometimes, but because she wants it.

He realises that he cares the first time he sees Nott intoxicated—beyond the regular tipples he’s seen her have but inebriated to the point she’s a stumbling wreck. He holds her small weight up as she shows him her collection of trinkets. She’s both proud of her stash and embarrassed that he would mock her for it, which endears him all the more. It seems that people have not shown her the kindness to listen before.

No one has cared about Caleb for a very long time. He’s not going to fuck this thing up.

***

It's a gradual blurring of boundaries. They hold hands and he lets her into his space to pull off covers for petty scams, that’s all. If Caleb then chooses to let that fill his chest with warmth following that, no one else needs to know.

Though Caleb is confused about the comfort he has in closing the gap and taking her in this near, feeling her presence in his space. But he knows that feeling her trembling bright energy so close makes Caleb feel more alive than he had been since he was a much younger man.

One day following a few poor manoeuvres by Caleb, he’s about to be caught by a shopkeeper lifting some rather expensive inks. He hears a fizzle and a shriek as acid begins to tumble down from a high shelf onto the shopkeeper's wares. Nott’s small hand takes his and drags him from the shop to the nearest alley. He picks her up and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and whispers “Thank you."

He tries not to think about the way that his throat catches when the forest green skin of her cheeks darkens at the appreciation of his words, not used to hearing gratefulness.

She always lets him sleep on the bed if they manage to get a room in a tavern. Even when she’s battered and bruised from someone catching her goblin visage out in public, she goes to curl up on the floor. After a particularly cold night, Caleb huffs out a complaint as he pulls her into the bed and pulls her icy limbs under the covers.

Later, it becomes A Thing. It’s not always that she’ll sleep next to him, and it's not when he’d expect, but Nott will follow Caleb into the bed from time to time. She peers at his books over his shoulder.

He slows down to allow her to keep up with his reading; it never takes a lot of relaxing, mind. She’s deceptively clever, though she won’t admit it.

Nott almost always falls asleep before he does, with him focused too intently on his book. When he stops, Caleb lies awake thinking about the eccentric kindness that she’s shown him, listening to her loud snores. He reflects on how it was that he’s ended up with such a spectacular oddball. All her skittish quirks he can see with transparency with her so near.

There’s a lot of things about Nott that he can see that she camouflages well from a distance. Her ears twitch near constantly when she thinks; when she relaxes, he can feel the tension fall from them. She makes peculiar little sounds of contentment when she’s not hiding. Caleb isn’t even sure she knows she does it, but every so often he’ll hear a soft vowel exhaled when she’s focused or her guard is down. It’s all very inhuman and enchanting. Most of the time, when she’s out and about, she’s mastered the art of slipping into the background—mimicking movements of other people around her to look like the little halfling girl she claims to be. But up close she’s wild and weird, and it’s refreshing.

He wants to reach out and touch; when that recognition comes it’s a sombre one. _She’s kind to me because she’s kind, that’s all,_ Caleb tells himself. _It doesn’t mean she wants to be yours._

Caleb is not going to do anything that would take this wonderful flighty woman away from him.

***

Following one of the first nights with the Mighty Nein, Caleb’s feeling particularly worse for wear. He falls unconscious in the battle and awakens to Nott’s terrified expression as she pulls away from mouth-to-mouth.

There should be something disconcerting about having goblin teeth so near; instead, he feels protected.

After getting back to their room, he drags Nott to bed after a long night of work, with her still protesting. She lets him lead her to the creaking mattress and wrap the modest blankets around the two of them. There is familiar comfort in having her here, and Caleb looks down at Nott’s heavily lidded sunny eyes and her moss-toned skin, and he tries not to think about how close to death he’d fallen again.

With hesitation, Caleb leans in, waiting for Nott to pull away or show flickers of discomfort—flickers he doesn’t see. He moves in again and appreciates the feel of her breath on his face. Closing the gap, he places his mouth on hers.

The texture of her lips is unlike his; although the rest of her skin mostly matches Caleb’s in all but colour, there is a firmness and resilience that marked her from another human beneath him. Perhaps to take the sharpness of her teeth? He catalogues that; he’d analyse the way that it made the temperature rise up his neck another time.

His mind beings to run away with possibility. He could pull her in and feel her hot breath in his mouth and to feel the tip of her tongue move against; he could wind his hands into her clothes and pull her impossibly close; he could tell the world “Mine.”

But like a coward, he pulls away after a second and leaves her space. For all her drinking and fretting, Nott _is_ the brave one.

The kisses that happen following that are few and far between. After close shaves or after hard nights of questions, Nott would often be the one to initiate a gentle press of their lips together in comfort. There is an unspoken accord that this never happens in public. Not even around the Nein. This is just for them. To soothe Caleb.

Caleb doesn’t push for more.

***

It’s been a year since Trostenwald, and the trouble they’ve have seen with the Nein is unparalleled. It manages to be both worse and better than it was the two of them alone. The scrapes they seem to get themselves into haven’t lessened—if anything, they’ve intensified. It scares him how far deep they seem to be delving into the world’s business and getting themselves into hardship for it. But without question, it is so much better now they have a family. It's a ridiculous, fucked up family—but it's theirs and it's everything Caleb's needed.

Though as Caleb’s on his knees trying to catch his breath, it’s hard to remember all the reasons why now is better. The concern on Nott’s face is troubling as she reaches for her flask and offers it out. When she’s distressed like this she looks so much older than she says she is. He takes the flask from her hand, and he knocks back the assorted spirits. Not being the seasoned drinker that Nott is, it burns and he winces at the sting in his throat, but her unspoken wisdom is right—it helps.

“No one caught us this time, we’re okay.” Nott’s voice is tender. “We need to breathe.” She's as much telling herself this as she is telling Caleb.

After a few moments, the spark of panic is fading and his lungs are no longer burning from their escape. He leans his forehead against hers. It’s an odd angle for the two of them; with Caleb on his knees, the height difference is minimal. Caleb manages to be still taller even like this, but it’s not a perspective he gets to see often.

She leans in and kisses him. A peck, to the lips—innocent and soothing and grounding Caleb to right here, right now.

But then it’s over—just a peck after all—and that wretched need of Caleb’s for more is boiling over.

“You did ama—" And that’s all she manages to get out, before Caleb’s gaze falls too intense, leaving her trailing off. His cowardice is thrown to the side in ache for more as he leans in slowly, capturing her space. His lips are on hers again, revelling in the feeling of the iron silk of their skin, though he’s so much more insistent this time. For once, he pushes on. He teases his tongue over her mouth and there’s a moment of the gentlest inhale from Nott as her mouth falls slack.

His hands itch with the need to knot themselves into something, but he stops himself as his arms go to grasp at Nott. His hand and arms are held taut in the air as he waits. In his mind, Caleb is already chastising himself. _I’m not going to grab for you. I’m not going to hold you close. You can leave, but please don’t. God, please don’t leave._

Caleb pulls away. Yet Nott’s lips are chasing his.

As she kisses back, he’s grabbing fistfuls of her cloak and drawing her closer. Nott’s hands move before he can document each touch, and Gods it's the most beautifully overwhelming thing in the world. The sensation of a claw gingerly dragging down the nape of his neck draws a shudder from Caleb, although he knows she won't hurt him. There's an arm thrown around his upper back, and a hand caressing his chest—it all barely has a chance to register before she’s moving again.

When they part, Nott’s wide eyes are watching him with befuddlement.

"I'm not sure what I've done to deserve that," she says in a careful tone, watching Caleb’s reaction. Her face doesn’t show hurt or anything that he’d have expected and feared—mostly bewilderment.

He remains on his knees, within her gaze and takes a moment to document the look in her eyes and file it away. She’s thankful. She’s happy. She wants this. And who would Caleb be to deny her? She’s never asked for them, she’s never stolen it, and Caleb wants to give it to her anyway. He smiles a moment before murmuring:

“Because you’re kinder than you make out, Nott The Brave, and I’m yours.”


End file.
